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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29011413">Kustard with a side of Dust</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireFaceOutlook/pseuds/FireFaceOutlook'>FireFaceOutlook</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Side of Misalignment [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Dusttale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Dusttale Papyrus (Undertale), Dusttale Sans (Undertale), M/M, Underfell Frisk (Undertale), Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:40:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,843</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29011413</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireFaceOutlook/pseuds/FireFaceOutlook</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>PAPYRUS,</strong> his brother whispered, hands pinning him in place.  His eye lights blinked out when he found he couldn’t move - couldn’t tear his eyes away from where he could sense Papyrus’ soul.  <strong>LV 9.  214 ATK 96 DEF.  *Won’t back down easily.</strong>  <em>WELL, NEITHER WILL WE, BROTHER.</em>  Beneath his brother’s words - still a damned siren call, even after so long -, he could hear Papyrus mid-lecture about the dangers of drug abuse and he thought he could cry if apathy wasn’t doing its best to consume his soul.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Frisk &amp; Sans (Undertale), Papyrus &amp; Sans (Undertale), Sans/Sans (Undertale)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Side of Misalignment [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128278</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Kustard with a side of Dust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <strong>A/N: I saw the cutest little comic on pixiv about Dust ending up in Underfell, and the description said something the lines of "Kustard but with Dust Sans instead of Classic" and I had to write something for it.</strong>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Dust returned home to find Papyrus bustling about the house like he owned the place, he was displeased but unsurprised.  Sans’ brother didn’t trust him in the least, and Dust wasn’t exactly his biggest fan either.  They held a mutual distaste towards one another, but Sans wanted them to get along, so they tolerated each other when he was around.  Seeing as he was currently still at work, though, all bets were currently off the table as far as the kindness game went.</p>
<p>“why the hell are you here?”  Dust demanded, casting a surreptitious glance around in case Papyrus’ damn cat tagged along.  The bundle of fur and claws seemed to share its owner's distaste for him.</p>
<p>“Since My Brother Decided To Date Someone As Lazy And Useless As Him, I Obviously Need To Visit To Clean Up After The Two Of You.”  Papyrus’ excuses always followed along the same script.  Dust knew he was just looking for evidence of some kind to convince Sans to drop his bony ass.  Dust didn’t think he’d find anything worse than his timelinial geocide, which Sans was well aware of but Papyrus was pretty stubborn.  Still, his snooping always rubbed Dust the wrong way, and the resulting irritation, on top of whatever stress lingered from work, was sparking his LOVE lust.</p>
<p>Dust’s condition wasn’t <em>unknown</em> to Sans, but the severity of it was a closely guarded secret.  He was in contact with a few scientists across the multiverse, trying to find a more permanent solution than the prescription Underswap Undyne and Storyshift Asgore concocted for him.  He thought he had the bottle safely stored away, but when he dug into the shoebox of memories from his voided universe - the tattered remains of his brother’s scarf, Frisk’s locket and knife, Toriel’s journal… -, buried in the back of the closet, it was nowhere to be found.  And since <em>Sans</em> didn’t go snooping through his belongings, he knew perfectly well who the culprit was.</p>
<p>“ <strong>P a p y r u s . . . </strong>“ he grit out when he tracked down the conniving skeleton.  “where did you put my pills?  I <em>need</em> them!”</p>
<p>The bastard looked so smug, Dust was already dreading the answer he knew was coming and his likely response to it.</p>
<p>Sure enough, the snide and proud declaration, “I Disposed Of Them,” had enough bitter HATE bleeding through his mana lines that his mounting aggression was practically visible.  (<em>Was</em> visible, to him, in the form of his brother’s apparition spitting enough vitriol to begin breaking down his ironclad control.)  Papyrus obviously noticed, posture stiffening subtly into a defensive stance.</p>
<p><strong>PAPYRUS,</strong> his brother whispered, hands pinning him in place.  His eye lights blinked out when he found he couldn’t move - couldn’t tear his eyes away from where he could sense Papyrus’ soul.  <strong>LV 9.  214 ATK 96 DEF.  *Won’t back down easily.</strong>  <em>WELL, NEITHER WILL WE, BROTHER. </em> Beneath his brother’s words - still a damned siren call, even after so long -, he could hear Papyrus mid-lecture about the dangers of drug abuse and he thought he could cry if apathy wasn’t doing its best to consume his soul.</p>
<p>“you <strong>i d i o t</strong> ,” he hissed, reaching up to hook his fingers in his socket and giving a good strong <em>pull</em>, just like Axe showed him.  It dispelled the cloud hazing his mind, but it wouldn’t last.  Papyrus looked ready to blow a gasket, too, and Dust didn’t think his fraying restraint could handle the incoming tantrum.  “it was <em>medicine</em>, and you need to leave.”</p>
<p>Papyrus sputtered and on any other occasion, Dust would’ve enjoyed a front row seat to the taller skeleton being put in his place, but at the moment, he needed him <em>gone</em>.  <strong>Out of sight, out of mind.</strong>  So he grabbed Papyrus’ soul with blue magic, tossed him (literally) out the door, and barricaded all the exits with bones emitting enough intent to ward off even the boldest of ‘Fell monsters.  Then he retreated back to the bedroom, sliding down against one of the walls, and after taking a bracing breath, summoning bone attacks from the wall and floor.  His brother’s scream of pain deafened him to his own, but he was pleased to note that with a whopping <strong>.5/93</strong> HP left, he wasn’t going anywhere.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Dust wasn’t sure how long he sat there.  It felt like hours, his brother’s venomous ranting fading into a buzz in the back of his skull, but for all he knew, it could’ve only been mere minutes before his solitude was broken.  A visual blip of red and Sans popped into existence at the door.  Even sweating and gasping like he’d run a marathon, Dust still thought him beautiful; his left eye light was blazing with magic and his lab coat was visible beneath his jacket.  He looked around wildly and upon spotting Dust, his usual white pips appeared and shrank in what Dust could only assume was horror.  Dust was sure his self-imposed prison was quite the sight.</p>
<p>“oh stars,” Sans whispered, rushing to Dust and dropping to his knees before him.  His hands hovered over some of the deeper bone bullets, but they both knew he couldn’t actually touch them without risking his HP, even if it was nothing to sneeze at.  (Not like Dust’s had been once upon a time.)  “fuck.  <em>fuck!</em>  Dust, what the <em>Hell</em>-”</p>
<p>“your brother- i- didn’t wanna hurt him.”  Dust offered a strained grin, but Sans’ frown deepened, so he relented.  “he tossed out meds i had.  for my lv.”</p>
<p>Sans dug into one of his pockets and pulled out a familiar bottle.  “I know.  he called me, and I stopped by to pick them up before I came home.”  He popped off the cap and dug out two of the pills - gel capsules swirling with purple and green magic.  Dust opened his mouth and swallowed them once Sans dropped them onto his summoned tongue.  Hovering behind Sans, his brother’s expression softened into something resembling peace before he dissolved.  (The pain of losing his brother never lessened, even when it was just a figment of his traumatized mind.)  Sans cupped his face, wiping away tears he hadn’t realized were there.</p>
<p>“alright?”  When Dust nodded, Sans pulled away, bracing his hands beneath Dust’s arms, leaning as close to the protruding bone attacks as he dared.  “okay, let’s get you patched up.  when you’re ready, let go of your magic.”</p>
<p>Dust wheezed out an unamused laugh.  If he waited until he was “ready,” he would be stuck to the wall for the rest of his days.  Instead, he took as deep a breath as his punctured rib cage would allow, released it, and dismissed the bones.  He collapsed into Sans’ arm with a choked whimper, having ensured he didn’t have the air to scream.  He grinned weakly when Sans cursed as marrow leaked over his hoodie (simple enough to wash out with its dark colors) and lab coat (harder to wash out since it was stark white).</p>
<p>His <strong>.5</strong> HP wavered warningly when he was lifted to his feet, and the journey from the bedroom to the living room couch was a blur.  When his head stopped swimming, he winced at the future prospect of having to scrub the stains out of the cushions.  Except… instead of the comfortably worn fabric he was used to resting on, he felt the padding and bristles of towels under him.  But he hadn’t sensed Sans appearing anywhere else in the house before he showed up in the room, so how…?</p>
<p>Frisk was suddenly hovering over him and when he blinked, they were gone and glowing purple bones were impaled in the ceiling over his head.  He gazed up at them blankly before abruptly recalling Frisk’s face and the <em>scar on their cheek <strong>oh stars that wasn’t his Frisk!</strong></em>  He sat up, trembling as, out of the corner of his socket, <strong>.5</strong> dropped to <strong>.3</strong>, and he spotted Frisk standing at the other end of the couch.  They looked a little pale, but otherwise unharmed, and a second later, Sans came rushing upstairs through the basement door, <em>sans</em> lab coat and hoodie.  Frisk and Dust both looked over at him while he looked up at the new perforations decorating the ceiling before glaring a hole into Dust with the red ring that’d reappeared in his left socket.  Dust sunk down onto the couch, sweating bullets; low LV in comparison or not, Sans was a force to be reckoned with, especially when it came to Frisk.</p>
<p>“stars, Dust, I <em>swear</em>…!”</p>
<p>He hurried over, giving Frisk a cursory once-over in passing before leaning over the prone skeleton on the couch.  He pushed Dust down - gently in comparison to the ire in his expression - and waved Frisk off towards the kitchen.  They returned with a tea cup full of a softly glowing, mint-colored liquid.  <em>Sea Tea.</em>  They handed it to Dust, who accepted with a grateful and apologetic grimace before downing it in one go.  <strong>10.3</strong> HP was still pretty far from the max bar, but it was a far cry from <em>biting the dust</em>.  Sans and Frisk gently coaxed Dust out of his jacket, and once he was sitting upright, slouched against the back of the couch, Sans positioned Frisk’s hands over one of the holes in his leg before laying his own hands over a puncture in Dust’s abdomen.</p>
<p>“ready?  just like ‘Dyne taught ya.”</p>
<p>Their palms began to glow a gentle green and Dust grimaced at the sensation of the injuries closing - slowly, due to Frisk’s inexperience and Sans’ LV, but soothing at the same time.  It took time, Dust prevented from nodding off from the steady trickle of pain through his magic, but when they were done, Sans and Frisk joined him on the couch, kicking off the marrow-soaked towels.  Sans wrapped an arm around Dust and pulled him back down so they were squished side-by-side on the too small couch, and Frisk ended up draped on top of them.</p>
<p>They asked, <em>*”Are you okay?”</em> as Sans’ snoring filled the air.</p>
<p>“fine,” he said quietly, wrapping an arm around Sans to anchor himself so he wouldn’t roll onto the floor, and using the other to pin Frisk so they weren’t likely to fall either.  “thanks for healing me.  and sorry for earlier.”</p>
<p>Frisk just smiled.  <em>*”I’m pretty good at dodging.  I learned from the best, after all.” </em> They patted his and Sans’ chests before resting their head on their folded arms.</p>
<p>As they followed Sans’ lead into the world of dreams, Dust let his head fall back.  There had been plenty of close calls since he wound up in this universe, and this was the worst one yet.  He needed to find a more permanent solution, and <em>fast</em>, or simply leave - before he ended up destroying everyone he cared about again.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>(If, a few weeks later, he found a new bottle of gel capsules full of a thick black and green-blue concoction - with a note attached reading, “you owe me =)” -, the others were none the wiser.)</strong>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <em>Prompt: “What have you done with my pills?  I need them!”</em>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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